


Kananan Halittu

by osunism



Series: Lightning In A Bottle [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, OBFC, Original Black Female Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:20:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osunism/pseuds/osunism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aja Trevelyan was sent to investigate rumors of her sister Hadiza’s elevation from Circle mage to Herald of Andraste. Confirmation of these rumors aside, the former raider’s eyes wander to the charming diplomat who is charged with seeing to her settling into Skyhold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kananan Halittu

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during Happenstance and the subsequent fics in that continuity. I've been debating on releasing this for literal months, because I'm not out officially and I know femslash isn't as popular as het, but whatever. I fell in love with this ship all over again as I was editing the first chapter. I even had someone beta it for me. So here it is.

_Art by me._

 

            Winter was already wrapped around the Frostbacks, threading through the peaks, and spilling down into the foothills and lands below and the sun had only begun to sink behind the mountains when she arrived. The Inquisition had only just settled into Skyhold when she caught up with their trail and with her demanding an audience with the Inquisitor so soon on the heels of their devastating defeat at Haven, Aja Trevelyan’s presence had been met with suspicion and outright hostility. While she did not blame the men at the gatehouse for their vigilance, she did not hesitate to defend herself, and a few bruised limbs later, Blackwall stepped in to knock the Reaver on her rear and subdue her. She yielded with a toothy grin, only to find her arrival had drawn the ire of the Inquisitor herself.

            Also known as her elder sister, Hadiza.

            As Aja was hauled to her feet, she met her sister’s icy glower with an easy smile, tossing her long dreads over her shoulder in a display of arrogance. An Antivan woman, who bore in her possession a writing slate, accompanied Hadiza and her countenance was no more welcoming, but at least she had the decency to look curious and concerned. Aja’s gaze lingered on the woman for a span many would call inappropriate before Hadiza’s voice cracked like a whip between them.

            “What are you doing here?” She demanded. Aja’s brows rose in surprise and she laughed, turning out both her hands in a gesture of helplessness. Hadiza’s eyes narrowed but she was studying her younger sister, taking stock of her appearance. Noble-blooded they may have been, yet for all their gentle breeding Aja did not appear as one would expect of a noblewoman, which puzzled Hadiza. Memory serve, when she’d been hauled off to the Circle, Aja was well on her way to becoming a templar. Why then did she don the appearance of a common Rivaini raider? Their father would have torn his hair out at the root to see it.

            “I came to see…” Aja began, and then glanced around. Curious denizens of Skyhold, noble and not, were waiting. She passed a questioning glance to her sister, expectant. Hadiza waved her hand and turned smoothly to strut back into the keep, her ambassador in tow and Aja following behind, smiling when those who did not fear her fearsome appearance deigned to meet her gaze.

            Inside, Aja looked around. Skyhold had been an impressive structure in the distance, as Aja made her way down the winding, mountain path. Inside, she could only see the mess that the Inquisition had yet to clean up in their arrival, but silently praised Hadiza for getting repairs and restoration underway. She stepped over timber and work tools, deftly dodged workers busying themselves with the scaffolds in place. She saw the throne of the Inquisition on the raised dais, and her brow knit in consternation as they passed through the side door to a warmer room. When the door shut behind her, Hadiza turned.

            “Did father send you?” She hissed, and then looking Aja up and down, her lip curled into a sneer, “Of course not. He’d disown you for strutting about, bearing the family name looking like that.”

            Aja’s gaze sharpened on her sister, bringing the older woman up short. It was only a glimpse, but it was enough. The monster that lurked beneath Aja’s cool exterior could have needlessly taken the lives of the Inquisition soldiers in the gatehouse. It was Blackwall who spared them the grisly fate.

            “This is not like when we were children, Hadiza,” Aja warned, and Hadiza’s expression turned suspicious, “I’ll not cower in your shadow while mother and father scold me. If you must know: _yes_ , our father sent me. He heard the rumors. Herald of Andraste, was it?”

            The Antivan woman cleared her throat and both sisters glanced her way.

            “Inquisitor, perhaps the two of you would like to be seated? I can lend you the comforts of my office while you sort out your differences.” She glanced at Aja, who met her gaze unblinking and did not look away.

            “Of course, Josephine,” Hadiza said with a sigh, “thank you.” Thus named, Aja watched Josephine walk away, smiling slightly as the woman shut the heavy oaken door behind her with barely a sound. Once she was gone, she turned her attentions back to her sister.

            “So it’s true, then?” She asked, “You’re the one everyone’s calling the _Herald of Andraste_?” Hadiza frowned; waving her hand in that dismissive gesture again, and Aja caught a flash of green light, tensing instinctively, her hand going for her sword’s hilt. Hadiza saw and glanced at her left hand, chuckling.

            “You’ll come to no harm from me, Aja,” she assured her, “at least not here. The Veil is…hard to warp in this place. What does father want from me?” They made their way to the cozy living area, the mood set with plush carpeting, two wing-backed chairs, and a low table, the surface made of what looked to be ivory, the legs carved and ornate out of deep cherry wood. A cheery fire burned in the fireplace, maintaining the spacious room’s warmth, and over the mantle hung the Inquisition’s heraldry. Aja took all of this in silently as she settled into the chair awkwardly, mindful of the fabric so it did not catch on the sharp edges of her armor. Hadiza sat in the chair across from her.

On the table, a tea set of polished silver and fine porcelain cups and saucers sat in a lovely serving tray. Cubes of sugar were artfully assembled on a small saucer, stacked with care, and a creamer sat at the ready. Josephine was ever a stickler about details and always had a hot pot ready to receive guests, of which there were many given her status. Hadiza did not help herself to a cup, nor did Aja. For a while, all was silence save the steady breath of the flame in the fireplace. A log popped, Aja swallowed hard, and Hadiza finally let slip the mask of the Inquisitor, a 15 year old anger burning through her.

“None of you bothered to write,” she said quietly, a dangerous quiet that betokened a righteous fury, “and now you hear I have gained some renown in this forsaken land and you show your face.” Aja was quiet in the wake of her sister’s rage, and had learned long ago to allow the offended party to spend the coin of their fury until their senses returned.

“What did you think would happen when you arrived, Aja?” Hadiza continued, “That I would simply throw open the doors of Skyhold and welcome you with open arms? Feast in your honor? Fifteen years and not a word nor anything resembling an attempt at contact; ‘twas Knight-Commander Frederick who told me mother perished of the wasting sickness. And now father sends you to what? To curry favor? To persuade me to further add luster to the Trevelyan name? To give succor to his wayward daughter?”

“What exactly did you expect, Hadiza?” Aja demanded, sitting forward, “Once bound to the Circle mages are forbidden outside contact. You know this. _Everyone_ knows this. No amount of _fucking_ would bring that knight-commander to bend and break the rules on your behalf. Mother attempted to hide you, but you ruined that, or have you forgotten?”

Hadiza drew back as if struck, nostrils flaring, the Anchor flaring to life in her left hand as she struggled to rein in the fury that she’d held close for fifteen years and counting. Aja was right, of course; had Hadiza known what their mother was about she might very well have kept her mouth shut on the indiscretion she’d witnessed. But had Aja not attempted to goad her out of envy?

“You speak as if you cared at all, Aja,” Hadiza sneered, “yet I remember you were all too glad to see me hauled off like some criminal.” Aja’s expression shifted, but there was no pity or sympathy to be had on her end. She had seen too much and done far more to pity Hadiza’s plight.

“Count yourself lucky they did not brand your forehead, Hadiza,” Aja snapped, impatient with the entire song and dance, “Count yourself lucky that you were untouched while there. Oh, you think mother did not query about your safety? You think she did not request Knight-Commander Frederick to look after you while you were there? Even when you nearly had her thrown out into the street because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut, she still saw to your safety. She still _cared_.” Hadiza’s breathing was deep, and Aja still felt no pity, only her own cold and bitter anger, locked away for over a decade. Hadiza had been highly favored. She was to be the Chantry darling, a true templar, despite her shield-arm being weak, and her penchant for rogue tricks rather than a traditional straightforward melee. Aja had been the stronger and far truer of the two of them, she knew.

And yet the moment Hadiza had come into her powers, their mother had been delighted. Why, Aja could not say, given the Trevelyan history of populating most of the Chantry’s ranks. Their brother, Kesson, had been destined to inherit the estate had he not perished in the Conclave.

“What does father want?” Hadiza repeated and Aja shrugged.

“Confirmation that the rumors are indeed true,” she replied simply, “and that you have been reinstated.” Hadiza’s eyes narrowed and then she gave a cat-like smile.

“So that’s what this is about,” she said slyly, “you were due to inherit after me when I was sent to the Circle. And now my inexplicable rise to Inquisitor has unseated your plans. Tell me, where did my wayward young sister go if not to the templars?”

“Out to fucking sea.” Aja growled, “Where I learned a great deal more about myself and what I want out of life than the Circle taught you, it seems.” Hadiza made a derisive sound, rolling her eyes, dismissing Aja’s pride with a careless once-over.

“You mean you became a pirate and father is now scrambling to find an heir.”

There was a soft knock on the door. Josephine returned, and in tow, a tall blond man and a slender, hooded woman. They spared her cursory glances before continuing down the hall toward the war room. Aja watched them go, and caught Josephine’s gaze again, and this time, Aja smiled, all teeth, her upper canines capped in gold, glinting in the soft glow of the firelight. Josephine bit her lip, head turning quickly to hide her answering smile and busy herself reading something on her slate. Hadiza watched the exchange and took a deep breath.

“No.” She said when the three advisors were out of earshot. Aja glanced at her sister.

“No?” She parroted, amused, “And what are you going to do? Stop me, sister?”

“She’s my ambassador,” Hadiza warned, “and I’ll not have it said that I allowed my family to cause incidents within the ranks. Nor will I have it said I seek to place my family members in positions of power.” Aja grinned again, rubbing the side of her shaved head.

“Does this mean I can stay?” She asked, saturating her tone in a sugary way that made her sister scowl.

“I’ll not turn you out with winter already in full-force,” Hadiza said, clearly begrudging Aja her delight, “that you made the journey here at all is testament to your own grit. Least I could do is put you to work somewhere.”

“Typical mage,” Aja sighed, “making someone else do the heavy lifting while you gripe and complain about the cold. You’ve truly gone soft, Hadiza.” The scent of ozone suddenly filled the air as Hadiza’s anger flared and lightning crackled in her eyes. Aja laughed, gripping the arms of the chair and hauling herself up with a groan of relief, stretching aching muscles and sighing.

“I take it Josephine will be in charge of seeing that I’ve appropriate living quarters?” Aja asked. Hadiza nodded, again begrudging Aja her delight. In the distance, the chiming of the dinner bell rang, indicating the evening meal was ready to be served. Aja sniffed the air.

“Is that roasted druffalo? I’ve not had a brace of that in ages…” Aja murmured, making her way back toward the door that would take her to the main hall. Hadiza hesitated, wondering if her advisors needed her or if preparations were being made for the night’s meeting. When she saw them emerge, however, she breathed a sigh of relief, allowing them to catch up.

“I suppose introductions are in order,” she told them, and gestured to Aja, “this is my younger sister, the Lady Aja Trevelyan. She’ll be aiding the Inquisition during her time here. Bann Trevelyan sent her as aid.” Aja smirked at the tall blond wore a look of surprise.

“Only one person? Why not send supplies or something of that nature?”

“Because he didn’t send me to help,” Aja laughed, “he sent me to check on her.” She gestured to Hadiza who shot her a dark look. Aja held up her hands. “Look, if you wish to petition our father for aid, feel free, but it’s winter and the Waking Sea is treacherous until the spring thaw, even for seasoned sailors like myself. You’ll not receive supplies until mid-spring at the earliest.”

“How was it you were able to cross, then?” Josephine asked, genuinely curious. Aja grinned.

“A lone traveler is easier to overlook than an entire caravan of supplies. I was already in Ferelden for some time. When I heard about Haven, I followed the rumors…then the trail.”

Hadiza did not miss Leliana’s shift in demeanor, and watched as the spymaster took her leave without a single word. Aja watched her go, chuckling.

“Bards,” she muttered. Josephine stifled a giggle. Cullen, it seemed, was the only one who seemed genuinely clueless to the exchange and held out his hand.

“Well it will be good to have another seasoned warrior in our midst if nothing else,” he said and Aja clasped his arm, allowing herself a genuine smile, “good to have you aboard, Lady Trevelyan.”

Hadiza rubbed her temples.

“Thus are we met,” she said, “let’s go eat. I’m famished and today has been entirely too long already.” With murmurs of assent, they emerged into the main hall, taking in the scent of roasted druffalo, carefully cured in spices and seasonings, and the brackish murmur of the assembled crowd already taking their meals. Aja marveled at her sister’s carriage, how she carefully had a word for everyone who called for her attention, answering greetings of _Your Worship_ with a graciousness that would have made their mother proud.

“Is she always like this?” Aja asked Josephine as they were seated at a long table and served; Josephine smiled warmly.

“The Inquisitor is who she must be to the people she leads, Lady Trevelyan,” Josephine picked her words carefully, “and she is your sister…you would know best, no?” Aja sipped her wine, delaying her response. She set the goblet down, licking her lips. Josephine watched her from beneath her lashes, noting the crawl of the nasty scar on the woman’s face that began at the temple, and ended split the corner of her mouth, making her smile a little wider…but also lending a savagery to her harsh beauty. She was not soft, like her sister, and she bore the gravitas of a hard-lived life in her eyes that made her gaze sometimes too intense to bear overlong. Josephine had seen chevaliers with that same look.

“Today marks the first day in fifteen years since I last saw my sister, Ambassador,” Aja said cordially, “I can no more know her than I could know the current of a foreign sea. But I’m curious, how did you come to be in the Inquisition?” Josephine primly dabbed her mouth with a cloth napkin, swallowing before speaking.

“I was requested by name, in fact,” Josephine said with a quiet confidence that Aja found rather refreshing, “I have worked as an ambassador throughout many royal courts in Thedas and I am intimately familiar with the ebb and flow of politics.” Aja nodded.

“The Inquisition is as much in need of political clout as martial,” Aja surmised, “but what drives you, Lady Josephine? Do you believe the Inquisition can truly right the wrongs done by…” She gestured to the ceiling, indicating the calamity that currently could be seen across Thedas. Josephine nodded.

“If you are asking if I believe in the Maker’s will behind this, then yes,” Josephine held Aja’s gaze, “I must. To do less would give room for us to falter. We have already erred once, and bear the cost of it in many lives and homes unable to be recouped. If not for filial piety, Lady Trevelyan, why do you wish to remain?”

Aja stared at Josephine for a moment, took her time. Pretty lass, with a fall of dark hair, a swan neck, and warm brown skin; Aja was reminded briefly of her old captain, a Rivaini woman named Isabela. She remembered Isabela fondly.

“Simply put: I have no where else to go, my lady,” Aja answered, making Josephine smile and bite back a laugh, “it is the Maker’s honest truth. Winter is here and the paths through the Frostbacks are like to be obscured in snowfall by the end of the month. If there is a chance I can put my sword arm and good sense to use for a worthy cause, I see no where else I’d rather be.”

The silence between them was no silence at all, and yet it felt quiet. The table around them was alive with disjointed and clashing conversation, with laughter, and the sound of cutlery scraping on fine plates. Aja heard with half an ear and Josephine bestowed upon her a knowing smile and a conceding nod of her head.

“A fair point, Lady Trevelyan, and I for one am glad to have you among us,” Josephine glanced down the table where Hadiza was regaling her admirers with a story from one of her many forays into the Hinterlands, “The Inquisitor needs people she can trust implicitly in the hard days to come.” Aja followed her gaze, her smile waning.

“Are you suggesting that there may be some within her circle that are untrustworthy?” Aja asked. Josephine did not deign to answer, and merely set about cutting a small bite of druffalo and filling her mouth with it. Aja laughed quietly to herself. She had forgotten about the Game, it had been so long since she’d had to engage in such foolishness.

Josephine took a sip of her wine, her eyes smiling at Aja over the rim of the goblet. Aja laughed again, shaking her head. Dinner concluded after an hour and a half, and as those of import excused themselves to retire for the evening, or attend the evening prayer in the Chantry, Hadiza asked Josephine to see to it that Aja was put up in suitable living quarters. With so many packed into Skyhold’s grounds, it would be difficult to procure a room befitting Aja’s station. Aja, for her part, simply waved it off. She’d spent months at sea in a hammock and cramped quarters with men to whom hygiene was but an unpronounceable word. She could deal with a threadbare and Spartan room. As Josephine led her up the winding staircase, Aja chuckled to herself.

“You need not be so formal with me, Ambassador,” Aja told her as they reached the landing, “I’m no visiting dignitary to sniff and whine at the lack of decorum or dust on the mantle.” Josephine turned to face her, and her smile was saccharine.

“Be that as it may, you are still the Inquisitor’s younger sibling, and of noble blood. It would not do well to be seen being overly familiar with one of your station.” Aja rolled her eyes.

“You wound me, my lady. I am partial to familiarity, if it’s all the same to you.” she laughed as Josephine continued to lead her into the east wing of the keep, past Madame de Fer’s sitting area by the balcony, and into another long corridor lined with heavy wooden doors. Aja could hear muffled voices behind one, and a deep snore behind the other. Josephine stopped at the door midway down the hall, and reached into the small satchel slung on her hip.

The jangling of the keys on the ring, the metal scraping metal as he turned the key in the lock, and the aching sound of the wooden door creaking open all sounded so incredibly garish to Aja’s ears. She had been too long on the road alone, growing accustomed to the sounds only the wild, untamed places provided, and usually that consisted of mild birdsong, the hoof beats of her mount, and the creak and pull of leather straps. Out to sea, there had been only the water lapping against the ship’s hull as it cut through the waves.

Aja took one of the torches from the wall in the corridor and went to light the sconces in the room. She had expected no more than what she found within: a meager bed, likely thrice as comfortable as sleeping on the hard ground, a small table upon which sat a book, likely of the Chant if Aja knew her luck, and that was all. Aja dropped her pack by the door, turning to face Josephine.

“Thank you for being kind enough to escort me, Lady Josephine,” she murmured, “I am sure this is not a task that usually falls within your purview.” She merited a smile from Josephine and quiet laughter.

“Ah, well,” Josephine’s voice was gentle, “it is not everyday one entertains the Inquisitor’s younger sister. And you are rather interesting in conversation.” Aja smiled despite herself, and deposited the torch back to its appropriate sconce. Josephine lingered in the ingress of the room, resisting the urge to lean against the doorway as Aja inspected the room, not for dust, but merely the usual: pests. It was a sailor’s habit, truly.

“If you are not terribly busy tomorrow,” Aja said as she lifted the mattress with a grunt to peer beneath, looking for insects, “might I trouble you to be my escort once more? For breakfast, mayhap?” Josephine’s cheeks warmed.

“Lady Trevelyan, what could you possibly need an escort to breakfast for?” She swallowed as Aja lowered the mattress in a careful and controlled movement, before she turned to face her. Josephine took a deep breath, “If it please you, I find my luncheon hour is strangely free of clutter.”

Aja grinned.

“Then I shall see you tomorrow, my lady. It’s been a day for both of us, and as much as I’d love to keep you, I do not think my darling sister would be so gracious if I did.” Josephine nodded, trying not to giggle, watching as Aja began to unstrap and unlace pieces of her armor, setting them carefully on the small table at her disposal. Bit by bit, Aja’s imposing height and build simply melted away until she stood in a mere shirt, breeches, and boots, her weapons and shield stowed.

“Until tomorrow.” Josephine said breathlessly, turning to walk away. Aja shut the door behind her, chuckling to herself.

It was enough for a start, at least.


End file.
